Set after the final battle. How Draco&Harry could conceivably be together. Not too sure about it but reviews are always appreciated...

"Are you hiding, Malfoy?" Harry asked. He sounded tired, Draco thought. And what was he doing up here, on the tower, if he were not hiding also?

"Are you?" he responded.

Harry shrugged. "I just want a moment," he said, and Draco wasn't sure if it were to him or just a spoken thought, "a time when I don't have to be…"

Draco nodded. He understood. Possibly the only one who did, he thought. He understood that Potter didn't consider himself a hero, just as Draco didn't desire to be the villain. From birth, there had been no choice.

"I know," he said simply. Harry looked down.

"You have to hate me," he pointed out.

"Yes," Draco agreed. "Last year I hated you, because I was a Slytherin and you were a Gryffindor. Today, I hated you because I was a Death Eater and you were the Chosen One. Tomorrow, and for the rest of our lives, I will hate you for ruining my life. But now- now, I don't hate you."

Harry smiled. "Do you know why?" he asked rhetorically. "It's because we have no role, today. There are no expectations. We don't have to do anything, be anyone."

They sat there, and Draco thought: this conversation was not planned, not expected. For once, there were no rules.

"What do you think it will be like?" Draco asked. They could hear the celebrations below, and the grief. But nobody else understood.

"We will wake up," Harry said slowly. "And I will be The Hero and you The Enemy, and we will not complain because those are the parts we were born to play. We will spend the rest of our lives acting, because that's all we know."

Draco nodded. "This night doesn't count," he said.

Harry grinned. "The world's changing, Draco. I guess this… this is the transition period."

Draco looked at him, timidly, wondering why they were having this conversation. "I'm scared," he admitted. Potter's eyebrows rose.

"Me too," he confided. "I have to do it. And, you know, I'll be happy. But no-one will ever understand because no-one else is me."

"Or me," Draco pointed out.

Potter- Harry- kissed him. Draco did not hate him.

He kissed back.

Just for that moment, he saw what things could have been like, if they hadn't have had to be what they were.

That was the best night of his life because he did not have to be anyone, and neither did the boy he was kissing. They didn't have to do anything. For once, they could choose, and they chose each other.

When they woke up, entangled, they did not wake up Draco and Harry but Good and Evil.

For a moment, you couldn't tell which was which, but soon the boundaries reasserted itself, and the soft caresses and kisses were nothing but memories.

They didn't speak to each other as they left for their destinies. They barely even looked.

They couldn't, had they wanted to. That was not for them; not together. It was not part of the plan.

There had never been a choice.